


Airplane Noises

by WingsforWinter



Series: 30 Day Cheesy Tropes Challenge [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bartender Dean, Bisexual Castiel, Bottom Dean, Clueless Castiel, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Jealous Dean, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Top Castiel, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-20 23:17:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1529405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingsforWinter/pseuds/WingsforWinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is really regretting not going after the hot mechanic that worked on his car, so he decides to blow off some steam at the new local gay bar... only to find a very familiar face handing him his beer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Airplane Noises

**Author's Note:**

> Day 5!! 
> 
> a.k.a. Bartender AU
> 
> Part of the [30 Day Cheesy Tropes Challenge](http://ghiraher.tumblr.com/post/37135733342/30-day-cheesy-tropes-challenge)
> 
>  
> 
> Happy reading!

Castiel tried to go about the rest of the day like nothing eventful had happened, he really did, but his mind kept circling back to the green-eyed mechanic. The phrase ‘what if?’ nagged insistently at him from the moment he pulled his piece-of-shit car out of that lot to now, nearly six hours later.

 

_What if_ the handsome man really _was_ flirting with him, and not just being overly friendly, as Castiel was trying to convince himself? _What if_ , when Green-Eyes slid his receipt over the counter with a wink, Castiel had written his number on it and slid it back? What if Castiel had just asked him out right then and there? What was the worst thing that could have happened?

 

Abruptly, his brain supplied him with the memory of being punched in the face for coming on to the wrong man in college. It definitely wasn’t ideal, and he’d have to drive across town to the other mechanic the next time his Chevy took a shit, but he would’ve survived. He would’ve preferred a bruise to this heavy sense of regret.

 

It was just so hard to find men in this town. Castiel was an equal opportunity connoisseur of the human form, but he usually stuck with women. It was easy. Safe. You didn’t get dirty looks or snide remarks for being with women. People assumed he was heterosexual, and left it at that... But all of his relationships, from fiery Meg to sweet Daphne, failed miserably. He always felt like there was something missing.

 

Castiel was _tired_ of ignoring the part of him that plainly preferred hard angles and stubble to soft curves and long hair. He could appreciate both, sure, but whenever he closed his eyes and imagined his distant future—the stereotypical elderly people in rocking chairs on their front porch watching grandkids run around the yard—the hand he held was large and warm and callused.

 

Gabriel told him that his problem stemmed from his ‘sucky gaydar.’ It seemed his brother could effortlessly identify the men that shared his proclivity, but Castiel had no such talent.

 

It wasn’t just with men, either. Castiel just couldn’t understand people well in general. Flirting and innuendo went over his head so often that Gabriel had made a combination noise-and-hand-motion to signify it. Whenever he missed something obviously suggestive, his brother would use his hand to imitate an airplane whooshing over Castiel’s hair, complete with sound effects. It would be funny if it didn’t happen so often.

 

He was still spectacularly wound up by 8pm, and he knew he’d never get to bed at any rate. He contemplated calling his brother, but seeing as it was a Friday night, he had a pretty good idea where Gabriel was anyway. A new gay bar had opened up downtown and Gabriel had been a little too excited to check it out. He had begged Castiel to go with him several times, but so far he’d turned him down.

 

Castiel contemplated just staying in and reading, or maybe checking out one of the hundreds of movies that Gabriel had placed in his Netflix queue. _‘You are literally the only person on earth that hasn’t seen Titanic, Cassie.’_ He thought his brother might have been exaggerating, as he was wont to do, but when he asked his secretary Ava about it, she’d been flabbergasted as well.

 

No, it was Friday night, and he hadn’t had sex in months apart from an ill-advised one-night stand with his coworker April a few weeks ago. He pulled out his cell and texted Gabriel to confirm that he was in fact at the Roadhouse, changed into a dark pair of jeans and a navy blue button down, and left.

 

 

 

Castiel’s only thought before entering the Roadhouse was that at least here, he wouldn’t have to worry about his faulty gaydar. His only thought after entering was that this had probably been a bad idea.

 

The music was too loud, a thrumming, pulsing beat that had everyone on the dance floor jumping and grinding and swaying against each other. The air was thick and humid and stifling. He rolled his sleeves to his elbows and texted Gabriel that he had arrived before pushing through the masses to get a drink.

 

When he slid onto one of the unoccupied stools at the bar, the bartender’s back was turned. Castiel took a moment to appreciate the broad shoulders and narrow waist of the man who would hopefully help him get inebriated enough that he wouldn’t feel so wildly out-of-place here. Then the bartender turned to him.

 

For a disconcerting second, Castiel thought he might have gone so crazy from lack of sex that he was starting to have hallucinations. The bartender looked _just like_ the hot mechanic. Cleaner, yes. Wearing clothes that fit him like a glove rather than the baggy coveralls that the mechanic had been sporting at the shop, sure. But he had the _same face_. It couldn’t be the same man, could it?

 

“Hey, I remember you!” Green-Eyes leaned forward so he could be heard above the music and gave him a saucy wink. _Well, shit_. “Don’t take this the wrong way man, but your car belongs in the junkyard, not the road.”

 

“I agree, but I haven’t had the time to look for a new one. I’m afraid I don’t know much about cars. I’ve had the Malibu since high school.”

 

“Yeah? Well maybe I can help you find something worthwhile.” Green-Eyes’ voice deepened at the end of his sentence, and Castiel blinked, cheeks flushing. He was almost sure Gabriel would be making the airplane noise right now, had he been there.

 

As if Gabriel heard Castiel think about him, his brother suddenly appeared, hopping up onto the stool next to him.

 

“Cassie! You actually showed! I knew you loved me.” He laid a sloppy kiss on the side of Castiel’s face before glanced at Green-Eyes, who looked slightly confused. “Hey Dean, grab Castiel here a beer and I’ll take another strawberry daiquiri.” Dean, his name was _Dean_.

 

As soon as Dean went to grab their drinks, Gabriel turned to him. “So, darling. What made you change your mind?”

 

“I, uh. Well, I had a bit of a rough day.”

 

“Oh yeah? What happened?”

 

“My car broke down on the way home. I had to get it towed.”

 

“What’s wrong with it?”

 

Before Castiel could answer, Dean was back with their drinks and answered for him. “A better question would be what isn’t wrong with it.” He grumbled, setting Gabriel’s daiquiri down with a little more force than necessary. “You shouldn’t let someone you care about drive around in a piece like that. Its not safe.”

 

Before either of the brothers could comment, Dean was called down to the other end of the bar.

 

“I take it he was the mechanic that worked on your car?” Gabriel asked, the worst sort of knowing smirk plastered across his face. Castiel nodded. “You get his number?” Castiel’s face darkened, and Gabriel’s split into a shit eating grin.

 

“You didn’t, but you wanted to, and that’s why you're here! You wanted to get the bow-legged-wonder out of your head and now you run into him again… Oh, that’s rich.” Gabriel put the pieces together gleefully.

 

Castiel took a long draught of his beer, hoping that Gabriel wouldn’t use this against him in the future.

 

“Ask him out!” Gabriel piped up, when he took Castiel’s avoidance as confirmation.

 

Castiel looked at him incredulously. “What, now?”

 

“Hells yeah, now!”

 

“I can’t.”

 

“Why the fuck not?!”

 

“He’s at work, Gabriel. And even if he wasn’t…”

 

“No, Cassie. No more wishy-washy bullshit. You know he’s gay.” Castiel started to protest, but Gabriel cut him off, “Bro, that boy is about as straight as a slinky, trust me. And he likes you.”

 

“How could you possibly know that?” Castiel glared at his brother suspiciously.

 

“Hey, Captain Side-Eyes, I have more experience with things like this than you can shake a dick at.” Gabriel chuckled at his own joke before sliding off the stool and grabbing his drink. “Trust me.” And with that, he disappeared back into the mass of writhing dancers.

 

Castiel jumped when something cold hit his palm. “Figured you were ready for another one.” Dean smiled at him before noticing the lack of Gabriel and frowned. “Did your boyfriend just ditch you?”

 

“My boyfr—do you mean Gabriel?” Dean nodded hesitantly. Castiel grinned and shook his head. “Gabriel is my older brother.”

 

Something that looked like relief washed over Dean’s face, quickly followed by something downright salacious. “There aren’t any other guys I should be worried about, are there?” the green eyed man asked.

 

_Airplane noise, airplane noise. He’s definitely hitting on you. Don’t fuck it up._

 

“Well, there’s this mechanic I met. Greenest eyes I’ve ever seen.” Castiel glanced at Dean over the rim of his beer bottle.

 

Dean caught on to his dry delivery immediately and grinned. It was like someone had turned on the lights. “I get off in about fifteen minutes.”

 

 

 

The walk from the bar to Dean’s apartment was a blur of kissing and bumping into parked cars because neither one of them could be bothered to watch where they were going. They were both breathless and grinning by the time Dean got the door open and they tumbled inside.

 

Clothes were pulled off haphazardly in the race to nakedness, and every time a new inch of Castiel’s skin was bared, Dean’s mouth was on it, biting and sucking and kissing until Castiel was shuddering under the attention. He had never felt this _wanted_ before in his life.

 

“Top or bottom?” Castiel gasped as Dean sucked a mark onto his hipbone.

 

“Bottom.”

 

Dean practically shoved Castiel onto his bed, ripping off his boxers in the process. He was momentarily uncomfortable being the only one naked, but then Dean started undressing. Slowly. With anyone else, Castiel might have thought it corny, but Dean pulled off the striptease with a flair that had Castiel’s cock leaking precum.

 

“Eager?” Dean chuckled, eyes lingering hungrily on the pearly bead of fluid.

 

“I’ve spent all day thinking about you.” Castiel confessed, drinking in the sight of the other man.

 

“Ditto. I wanted you to fuck me in the back of your shitty car as soon as Bobby towed you in. I was gonna swipe your file to get your number, but then there you were…” The feral glint in Dean’s eyes softened a little, and he leaned over Castiel to seal their lips together again.

 

Castiel heard rustling next to his head and a moment later a condom was being pushed into the hand that wasn’t gripping Dean’s short sandy hair. Dean straddled Castiel’s lap and began opening himself up with one hand and stroking Castiel with the other, peppering kisses all over Castiel’s face and neck.

 

When Dean finally lowered himself onto Castiel, he had to recite the pledge of allegiance in his head to keep from coming on the spot. He gripped the freckled man’s hips, desperate for something to hold on to, while Dean started to bounce on Castiel’s cock.

 

They moaned in tandem, Castiel lifting his hips off the bed as Dean lowered himself, but it soon became not enough. Castiel pulled Dean down so the other man lay on top of him. He wrapped his arms tight around Dean’s waist and started driving into him relentlessly.

 

It wasn’t long before Castiel could feel the heat bubbling up from within him, and he shifted them just enough to reach down and take Dean in his fist.

 

“Oh, fuckfuckfuck, _Cas!_ ” Dean came with a full body shudder, and Castiel followed minutes later.

 

 

 

Castiel woke up the next morning warm and sated and wrapped so tightly in Dean’s arms that he had to wake the other man so he could use the bathroom. As soon as he got back in bed, Dean grabbed him and pulled him close, nuzzling his neck.

 

“Do you have work today?” Dean asked him after sucking what felt to be an impressive hickey under his jaw.

 

“No. Why, did you have something in mind?”

 

“I was thinking we could go looking for cars today. I really don’t like the thought of my boyfriend driving around in that deathtrap.”

 

“Your boyfriend?” Castiel raised an eyebrow, but broke into a grin a second later.

 

Dean leaned over him and answered Castiel’s smile with a frown. “Yeah, boyfriend. You got a problem with that?”

 

Castiel swiped his hand over Dean’s head, making an exaggerated airplane noise before bursting into laughter. Dean looked a little perplexed, but chuckled along anyway. He’d explain later.

**Author's Note:**

> I originally had another idea for this prompt, but I have since decided to make a longer fic from it, so there's that. 
> 
> Also, I write a lot of bottom!Dean because I like it, but they won't all be like that, I swear. 
> 
> I've been struggling with the 24 hour deadline, but I think I might be starting to get the hang of the 'less is more' approach to get these out in time. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!


End file.
